Love Of His Quill
by Kitsune Yarisha
Summary: Blaise finds a stash of interesting parchments that contain Draco's darkest secret. Can Blaise bring together two wouldbe rivals?
1. Chapter 1

**Love of His Quill**

Chapter One: **_Set My Fragile Heart A Flutter_ **

By Kitsune Yarisha

* * *

"Draco, what _are_ you doing? Let me in!" Blaise's voice rang through the door demandingly.

Draco threw his quill down and stuffed the papers he had written on into an already cramp folder on the desk. He stood, heart pounding in his ears as adrenaline surged through his veins, and opened the door; his mind letting the fact slip from him to ward the folder.

His emotionless Slytherin mask slid back into place over his pale features as Blaise said, "About time, Draco."

"Sorry, I was changing, Blaise. Wouldn't want to see me in my boxers, would you?" Draco asked in response.

"No, but what a lovely image that brings," he sat on Draco's bed, "to my mind. Are we going or what?"

Draco eyed his black comforter under Blaise with disgust, knowing he'd have to burn it later, before nodding his head. "Stay here. Let me get the others," Draco offered, without waiting for argument, as he left the room via the door.

Blaise hummed peacefully for a minute or two as he got off the bed and walked around the room. Spying the desk, he walked over to it and scanned the contents. Oh sure, Draco was a straight _A _student, but even he has to have dirty little secret. "Oh, well, lookie here!" Blaise whispered excitedly to himself as he fingered the edges of a stack of parchment; it seemed out of place where it had been shoved into the red folder.

With a chuckle, he opened it gently, searching for wards with his own magic. Satisfied (that there were none), he pulled the papers out and shrunk them to a manageable size.

He moved back to the bed and sat, pocketing the papers as the door reopened with Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and David Emerson standing in the doorway. "Let's go party!" Pansy squealed as she grabbed hold of Draco's arm.

He (Draco) sighed in annoyance before letting them all out and locking his door.

--

"Harry, please, stop glaring at the Slytherin party outside," Ron said as he flopped down on his own bed, grabbing his _Daily Prophet_ newspaper from the side table and opening it.

Harry grumbled something unintelligible as he opened the window and sat on the sill.

"Speak up, mate. I couldn't understand any of that," Ron grinned as he glanced over at his ebony haired friend.

Harry fixed his glasses on his face, squinting out the window as he repeated, "If only I could hex Pansy from here."

Ron joked playfully, "Is she hanging off of _Draco_ again? You hate that don't you?"

"Perhaps," Harry replied steely, tapping his wand on the ledge. Hedwig, his white owl, flew over and sat next to him, as he called for her; he stroked her soft feathers as she shifted into a comfortable position.

A silence settled over the large room as Harry stared out the window, watching the whole Slytherin house parade across the grounds, laughing and throwing confetti at one another; the multicolored paper flying everywhere and landing mostly in people's hair and hoods. Finally, when Harry almost couldn't stand watching anymore, darkness fell over the grounds and the stars glittered. It meant that the party was over for the Slytherins, who had an odd way of celebrating the Eve of Valentine's Day.

Harry sighed as he scanned the house once more, catching the familiar head of white blond hair of his rival. His eyes clouded in a peculiar way.

"You like him, don't you, Harry?" Ron asked quietly, watching his friend with complete understanding.

Harry looked up, his eyes flashing with an emotion that Ron couldn't identify at that speed, before he said steadily, "No. I'm going to sleep." He stood and slipped into his bed, turning away from Ron and falling into an uneasy slumber.

"Mate, I don't care what you say, but I know one day…" Ron trailed off as Seamus, Neville, and the other boys entered the room to go to bed.

--

Back in his own room, Blaise poured over the contents of the parchments, utterly surprised at the affection in them.

He had been right then, when he thought Draco had been hiding something from them for these last few years of schooling. He had an unrequited love for someone. Who it was, however, is what took Blaise by surprise; it was Harry Potter of Gryffindor, the golden boy.

Blaise turned to the next sheet, scanning the poem with extreme interest, almost seeing Potter through Draco's eyes.

_Your eyes,_

_They sparkle and they shine_

_With memories untold_

_Of all different times,_

_I live for your body_

_Of wonderful, heavenly beauty_

_And with every chance I get_

_I study you with determined scrutiny, _

_Emerald gems of beauty_

_Blessed by the heavenly gods who hold you dear_

_They gave me a heaven on earth_

_That I hold so near,_

_I write these words_

_And pray every day_

_The gods will give me you_

_In forgiving pay,_

_For I am a mere mortal _

_Fallen for a truly beautiful god._

The passion and love in those words, for some fool who would never notice Draco as other than an enemy, sickened Blaise.

In the words that his friend had wrote, Blaise could point out every sad line. Draco, because of a forbidden fruit (in so many ways), could never be with Potter. For example "_and pray every day the gods will give me you in forgiving pay_", he prays and prays but do they (the gods) ever listen or answer?

The boy reading the poem doubted it. He turned the page and read on:

**_February 13th_**

_I'm in potions right now. Snape is giving me a horrible look because of my restlessness. I can't sit still with Potter behind me. It's unnerving. Even writing this is remotely distressing! Goyle is staring at my frantic writing in interest, but I don't fear him finding out about my love affair with my quill…he can't read anything past "Goyle, think Potter's a moron?" Snape just asked a question about Wolfsbane and Wormwood and I'm raising my hand, the back of my neck tingles as I feel Potter's gaze shift from Weasley to me in surprise. Granger, the superior one of their group, is whom Snape picks. My hand drops like a dead weight back to my side and I send a death glare to my godfather's back.(He knows about me and my Potter-plex.) He ignores it as he awards two points to Gryffindor with a sarcastic insult. Snape turns away from the class and I take the time to make a rude note to Potter to conceal an obvious attraction to him. I hold it in my pale, slender fingers behind me and bite back a gasp as his fingers brush mine accidentally. I withdraw my hand almost insistently and wait for the tension to come pouring out of his magical aura as he reads it. It doesn't take long; I flinch as he directs his anger at me. The bell has rung. I'll continue this during lunch when I have to sit alone because Blaise, Goyle, Crabbe, and (thank the gods) Pansy are at remedial Transfiguration. Until then, I pray Potter doesn't notice me staring at him during Charms and that Blaise doesn't turn to see me writing about said male. Speaking of which, he has quite a nice build. ACK! I was not just staring at his arse! I was not. _

Unable to take anymore, Blaise scanned through the rest and picked up the poem and a few most serious items of passion and stacked them together. He kept the journals apart, knowing Draco would kill him if his "diary" got into public hands.

With a reserved sigh, Blaise sent the journals into the folder in Draco's room next door with a wave of his wand. He placed the other papers in a folder and wrote a message on it with a small drawing.He put them (the one's he chose) in a small Valentine's Day bag and placed it by his bed. He stretched and changed his clothes before finally he settled into bed and turned on his side, so he could stare at the wall.

Was he really going to prove he had gone into Draco's private love letter folder and stole items just to help himself sleep better at night? Yes, for Draco he would do anything no matter how it affected their friendship.

If it meant Draco needed a push then a shove from Blaise was in order. He drifted to sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks as he resolved and justified his motive.

--

"Happy Valentine's Day, Harry!" Ginny giggled as she handed him a card and candy. He nodded and handed her the candy he had bought her.

His collection bag was quickly filling up just from the house girls. He walked quietly back up to his room and placed the bag on the floor, almost surprised to see a large stack of candy from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls (almost).

He was more surprised to see he had received more Valentines from Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys this year than girls.

He smiled and made his way back down the stairs into the common room, knowing he wouldn't receive any more candy or cards today.

"Come on, mate! Breakfast is rumored as all candy!" Ron said in a rush, over excited by the mere mention of candy today.

He grinned as Ron practically dragged him out of the Gryffindor common room to the Great Hall. His smile vanished almost immediately as he saw the couple sitting together in each house and the people eagerly waving to him as he sat down at his house table.

He took his seat and filled his plate with confections and waited for his goblet to be magically filled with pumpkin juice. Mechanically eating his food, he leaned his head against his upturned palm and stared at nothing in particular.

Harry hated Valentine's Day. This day he was forced to realize (every year) that the person he loved most would not return his feelings. They would never see Harry in that way. He sighed heavily and stopped eating and began to stand to leave.

--

Blaise rushed past Draco with the Valentine's bag for Potter clutched tightly in his hand.

"Blaise! Wait!" Draco called out, but was ignored by the Italian boy.

Blaise ran into the Great Hall and was relieved to see that Potter had not yet come in, probably gathering cards from all his friends in their common room. He took a seat at the end of the Slytherin table closet to Gryffindor's, and waited.

"Hello, Blaise, how are you this fine day?" Marcus Flint asked politely as he moved to sit beside Blaise.

"I hate you," Blaise responded with malice, hating the fact that he knew Flint liked him (very much so).

Flint smiled nicely as he said, "I know that and I don't care."

Blaise nearly jumped with relief as Potter strode in with Weasley in tow. Come to think of it, Blaise didn't exactly like the weasel either. He made a move to stand but Flint grabbed his hand forcefully.

"What?" Blaise snapped at the offending teen.

"I like you," Flint responded truthfully, eyes glittering with emotion.

"I don't like you in any sense of the word. I need to do something for Draco, so let go _now_!" Blaise yelled at him hurriedly as he saw Potter move to leave.

Flint hung on as Blaise began to walk toward Potter. He stopped once more, kicked Flint off, and then walked quickly toward Potter, who had moved away from the bench and was talking to Weasley.

"Potter!" Blaise yelled, almost taken aback at how loud his voice suddenly sounded. Most conversations ceased quickly but others ignored the shout.

Potter turned toward Blaise with a retort ready, but it was swallowed back as Blaise stopped and held out the bag to him.

Potter looked at him oddly before taking it and saying, "Well, Zabini, I wasn't hoping for a gift from _you_ out of all the Slytherin."

"Don't have a cow, Golden Boy. It's not from me. It's time to learn why you're still alive and breathing," Blaise replied, satisfied with just insulting the young man before him. "It's time someone showed you the truth."

With those last bone-chilling words, Blaise turned and walked back to the Slytherin tables (avoiding Flint) and basically glowed with triumph.

He watched with amusement as Potter sat back on the bench, facing towards him. He gestured for the poor man to open the bag.

Potter, upon hearing and seeing Blaise tease him to open it, did so. Inside there was a grand roll of several parchments, a single rose, and a letter. He pulled the letter out and, his eyes widening, read over the front of the letter:

**To**: Harry J. Potter _Gryffindor _

**From**: Draco L. Malfoy _Slytherin_

**_Sent by_**:_ Blaise Zabini_

_**Titled**: _Love of His Quill _by Blaise Zabini

* * *

_

To Be Continued.


	2. The Words That You Hiss

**Love Of His Quill**

Chapter Two: **_The Words That You Hiss_**

By Kitsune Yarisha

* * *

Potter stood up quickly and rushed out of the Great Hall, his face bright red. At the Slytherin table, Blaise grinned as Draco walked over and sat down in an empty chair next to him and asked, "What did you give him?"

Blaise turned his attention back to blonde haired friend and smiled again. Draco's silver eyes narrowed in suspicion as Blaise answered, "I gave him your poems."

Draco's eyes widened and his mouth hung open for a long moment. "You… How dare you?" He hissed in rage as he regained his composure.

"Draco, I know you don't understand my motive, but I assure you that I didn't do this to humiliate you," Blaise replied, his voice trembling slightly in fear at the murderous look Draco was giving him.

Dropping his arms to his side and placing his head on the table, Draco muttered dejectedly, "Potter will hate me even more."

"You don't know that, Draco! He may…uh, he may find it attractive," Blaise managed as his face turned a light shade of pink.

Draco lifted his head to glare at him momentarily before sighing and muttering, "I suppose we will just have to see what happens, and pray I get to live to see my eighteenth birthday." Blaise nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as Draco began to eat calmly. He found himself wondering where Potter had gone to and if he was going to read the letter Blaise had written this morning. He also, to his own shock, found himself hoping Harry would return Draco's feelings. His friend was important to him and so was this matter.

--

Twenty minutes was barely enough time for Harry to read all of the parchments from Malfoy, but he was going to have to get in as much as possible. He rushed into the library and avoided the librarian hovering by the shelves as he took a table in the far corner of the main sitting area.

He placed the bag on the floor and pulled out the letter and parchments, pausing only to briefly inhale the wonderful fragrance of the red rose in the bag. He turned back to the letter and opened it careful, pulled out a single page before reading over the fine print:

_Dear Harry Potter,_

_If you are reading this letter it means I have successfully managed to give you Draco's secret parchments. Let us take a moment to applaud my great talent. While we are at it, let us take another moment to applaud my great number of abilities. Back to the point of this letter, I have discovered these poems (and more) in a red folder that Draco holds in his room. You may be very surprised by their contents since they center on yourself. By now I have probably confessed my actions to my friend and have begged forgiveness. However, I still do wish you to read over the parchments (and carefully at that, Potter!) and think over their meanings. Now, I must go, but I leave you with my own poem to give you a hint of what you will see._

_Love of His Quill_

_Love of his life_

_The object of his affection _

_The object of his strife,_

_Though you may not see_

_Though you may not hear_

_His love for you_

_Is what keeps him here,_

_Body, mind, and soul_

_He loves every part of you_

_Now that you know_

_What will you do?_

_Laugh or cry?_

_Or will you run away?_

_Will you never come out_

_And once again play?_

_Love Of His Quill_

_Love of his life_

_You're the object of his affection_

_And the object of his undying strife._

_Sincerely,_

_Blaise Zabini of Slytherin House._

Harry's brow furrowed together as he read over the poem again and again, not believing its meaning. He placed it back into the envelope and untied the blood red ribbon that held together the parchments Blaise had managed to steal from Malfoy and send him.

He flipped through them and counted at least five poems with small thoughts under them. He pulled out the first one and blushed darkly as he realized it was a description of himself. He pushed it aside and grabbed wildly for the next one as he struggled to regain control of his breathing.

He grabbed the parchment and inhaled deeply before reading it closely. It was a short poem but it held many conflicting emotions. Harry guessed that perhaps this one was one of the first Malfoy had written about him.

He smiled at the ending of it fondly as it mentioned his friends in a less then insulting light. Perhaps Malfoy really had under gone a change of heart, literally in a sense. He had to admit that Malfoy was very attractive and even when he was being an evil prat he enjoyed being around the blonde haired annoyance.

Harry picked up the next piece of parchment, noting he had only three minutes before he had to return to the common room for the Valentine's Day party they were holding. He shifted in his seat and read over the tan paper with interest:

_Make me smile_

_Make me grin_

_Show me the man _

_That I wish to win,_

_Give me a reason_

_Give me a life_

_Show me a world_

_Without all this strife,_

_Hand over my mind_

_Hand over my heart_

_Show me why with you_

_I never wish to depart. _

Harry choked back the sob that threatened to spill over his trembling lips, mentally cursing himself from reacting to a simple poem like a girl. "Damn, I didn't know Malfoy had all of this pinned up. I…" He started but was cut across as the leave bell.

He gathered up everything and placed in back in the bag and walked out of the library. He sighed as he walked passed the Great Hall, which was now empty expect for the house elves cleaning up the vast space. Harry moved on, eager to get back to the Gryffindor tower so he could forget about these poems and Draco Malfoy.

--

"Oh no!" Ron groaned. He turned in his chair as Professor Snape grinned evilly. "You believe this, mate? Partners he says!"

Harry smiled nervously at his red haired friend before he turned his attention back onto Snape.

"The pairings will be as follows: Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe and Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Thomas Arkansan, Adrian Robinson and Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown and Samantha Zabini, Blaise Zabini and Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and Anthony Maize. If you have any questions ask me directly. Find your partner and take your new seat," Snape ordered as he swept back behind his desk and wrote out the pairs on the chalkboard.

Harry sighed in relief as he walked past Malfoy and sat next to Blaise. With an approving up and down scan of Harry's body, Blaise nodded and smiled as he said, "Well, Potter, how are you today?"

Harry went red as Blaise shifted in his chair, so his back was to the wall, and glanced at Malfoy. "I…I, uh…I'm well," Harry stuttered lamely as he busied himself with rearranging his notebooks.

Blaise laughed from beside him and shot a knowing grin at Malfoy before turning in his seat to see Snape.

"You will be working together on an essay." The class groaned in unison and behind him Harry could hear Malfoy's frustrated sigh. "Yes, yes. I know how much you all hate those, except Ms. Granger of course. Any way, I expect a ten page essay from you and your partner on love potions compared to actual love," Snape finished with a disgusted sneer directed at Harry as he shout for every one to start on their projects.

Blaise twisted his long hair around a long, pale finger as he muttered to Harry, "Love compared to Love Potions, eh? I don't even know how to put anything I'm thinking into words! Any ideas, Potter?"

Harry shook his head and glanced at Hermione's table, noting she and Pansy had already written three pages.

"Whoa!" Blaise's shock whispered turned his attention back to the Slytherin boy. He was peered over his seat at Malfoy's parchments. "You've already done five papers, Draco? Anthony, stop staring! Aren't you supposed to be helping?"

Anthony sputtered incoherently as he stared at Malfoy elegant writing and then at the sixth page he had just finished.

Harry blinked in surprise, his eyes scanning the elegant scrawl on the parchment barely reading it. '_…The emotion of love is expressed by both parties while in a potion the emotion is forced by one person on another. The first person, the receiver, may not feel the emotion till fed the potion while the second, the giver, most likely already has the pull of attraction…_'

Anthony glanced up at Blaise with a pleading look. Blaise ignored him as he watched Harry mouth the words on the parchment, following and predicting the next couple of words exactly as Malfoy started writing them.

Blaise chuckled and tugged at Harry's robes as he turned around back to start their own essay.

With a slightly distracted mind, Harry turned and began to help Blaise write the essay.

--

"'Mione?" Harry called tentatively up into the girls' dormitory.

"One minute!" Came as a muffled response, which made Harry surprisingly less nervous. He could always talk to Hermione, always.

She came bustling down the stairs, her curly, brown hair bouncing everywhere.

"Oh, Harry! You look worried. What is it, then?" She questioned immediately before grabbing his hand and leading him to the chairs in front of the fireplace.

"Uh, Hermione?" He started out as he took a seat, avoiding her eyes as he gazed absently into the burning fire.

Her voice rang out clearly beside him, the concerning easily detected as she repeated, "What is it, Harry? What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath before he reached into his pocket and produced the poems from Malfoy and handed it to her. Hermione stared at them for a long moment before her brain processed what her friend was doing. She reached out and took the parchments and shrugged, "So?"

"Read them." He commended. And so she did. She flipped rapidly to the next one in surprise and continued on. He watched the expression on her face change from concentration to mild understanding to modest shock.

"Oh, Harry! These are wonderful! Who are they from?" She said as she handed back the parchments.

He stared at them as he pulled them into his hand, flipping to the last one and looking over the four-line poem, he read, "_Show me hate, show me spite, as long as you acknowledge me, I'll be alright. _Really, 'Mione, who do you think it is?"

She shrugged in an indecisive way as she counted off names on her finger, "Let's see, then. Cho, Ginny, Susan, Jenny, Jamie, Christy, or Pansy! Did I miss anyone?" She smiled smugly as Harry stared at her.

He set his mouth into a grim line and said darkly, "Do those girls ever write poetry?"

"Well not particularly any of them that I know of. Except for Ginny a…"

"A boy sent me these!"

"A boy?"

"Yes, a boy!" Harry yelled in annoyance before he pocketed the parchments. "Can you guess who sent them now?"

She sat quietly for a moment, pondering over all the boys she knew that Harry had met. Her eyes lit up in realization only a moment later. She whispered, "Draco?"

He turned to look in her eyes finally, the grim look in his eyes answering even before he said, "Yeah. Blaise took these parchments from Malfoy's room and gave them to me yesterday."He stared at her for a long moment before whispering quietly, "Well, what do you think?"

"Well, Harry, I don't know what to think, but I do know that no one is capable of writing such poems without the actual emotion. Harry, you need to talk to Draco and soon," she told him. Her expression remained steady as he got up.

"I was afraid you were going to say that," he told her. He disappeared up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

--

"Draco?" Blaise called as he opened the door to the blonde boy's room. He poked his head through the door before opening it all the way. He smiled as he saw the familiar mop of silver-blonde hair by the bed.

"Blaise?" The other boy called out shakily. His body trembling as he tried to steady himself against the desk in front of him.

"Draco! What's wrong?" Blaise asked as he rushed to Draco's side and held him steady in a loss embrace. Draco, still trembling slightly, held out a piece of parchment his owl had brought in this morning.

Blaise took it from his hands and read it, smiling despite Draco's unnerved scowl at him. "I'm surprised it responded. I'm even more surprised he writes poetry!" Blaise chuckled quietly as he read aloud:

"Though I have trouble _believing_

_What you say is true_

_Maybe if I hear it from your lips_

_I will believe you_

_But if you don't come out and _

_Write to me today_

_I may not ever want to hear_

_What ever it is you have to say._"

* * *

To be continued.


	3. Send Me A Love Letter

**Love Of His Quill**

Chapter Three: **_Send Me A Love Letter_**

By Kitsune Yarisha

* * *

"I can't believe you're making me do this, Blaise!" Draco complained as his friend tugged him toward the Charms room. 

Blaise stopped walking and relinquished his hold on Draco's sleeve. He gave Draco a disapproving look as he scolded, "If you hadn't fallen head over heels in love with him I wouldn't have to do this. Now pull yourself together! You're a Slytherin for god's sake." Blaise huffed before continuing down the twisting corridor.

Draco followed reluctantly as he fingered the note in his pocket nervously.

Blaise had convinced him, early this morning after reading the poem Potter had sent, to write a letter in response. He told Draco that if he didn't do it he would risk getting totally and utterly rejected by the Gryffindor golden boy. Draco, hating the thought of that, had immediately sat down and started writing.

"Hurry up, Drake!" Blaise shouted from a little ways ahead.

Draco walked forward quickly, his eyes a dangerous blue hue. "Blaise, if you wish to live… never call me Drake again!"

"Yes, sir! Never again, but only if you hurry up! We're late as it is!"

"And who's fault was that?"

"Me? You think we're late because of me?" Blaise asked innocently. He smirked as he added, "I wasn't the one who almost passed out because Potter wrote me a letter!"

Draco's face flushed a dark red as they turned to corner. He smacked Blaise on the back of the head and scowled. "Shut up, you bloody prat."

"I love you too, Drake."

"Stop it!"

--

"Harry?" Hermione asked in a hush voice as they entered the Charms room and took their seats. "Are you alright?"

Harry sighed heavily before answering honestly, "I'm a bit scared that Malfoy is going to answer my note…" He fingered his quill feather with slightly numb fingers from the cold air.

Hermione sighed and nodded. She turned her attention away as watched the other teenagers make their way into the oddly chilling Charms class. She rubbed her arms absentmindedly as she heard a student gasp. She turned in her seat to face Harry.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

The silence stretched between them and their acknowledgements. Neville shifted in his seat nervously; it groaned under his weight, creaking ominously.

Sending the offending Gryffindor a glare, Malfoy handed over his note, saying tensely, "Here, Potter. Snape told me to give you these potions to work on. He said they're fifth year level so even you should be able to complete them." He sneered and walked away quickly, avoiding the other Gryffindors before sitting down calmly next to Blaise.

Harry blinked before scoffing at Malfoy's clever excuse. He looked at the note for a moment before shoving it into his pocket.

Ron sat down and gave him a questioning look. He mouthed, as Mr. Flitwick walked in, "What was that about?"

Hermione's face heated and Harry just smiled. He didn't answer as he turned back to the front of the room and focused on Mr. Flitwick's starting lecture on the helpfulness of the four-point spell.

--

"_Lumos_," Harry muttered quietly from his seat in the common room. The tip of his wand glowed dimly, just enough to read, in result to his spelled command. He shivered lightly in the cold of the Gryffindor tower. He pulled out the folded letter and scanned it briefly before reading it.

_Dear Potter,_

_I'm sorry for the actions of my friend Blaise Zabini. I didn't realize he had taken anything from my room, and I'm mortified by what he did do with my things. My feelings are sincere as I guess Granger may or may not have told you. Poems are extremely difficult to write otherwise. Well, at least for me. Most of the Slytherins know already about my obsessions with you. Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Adrian were the only ones that didn't know. Again, I'm sorry if the way for found out wasn't exactly noble or anything, but Blaise is a Slytherin house mate whose sneaky, clever, and unpredictable. We, or he, don't really follow anything anywhere near the Gryffindor system of nobility and honor. So believe me when I say I really do like you. It isn't a trap or an elaborate lie. Thank you for listening._

_Forever,_

_Draco L. Malfoy_

Harry let out a surprised noise and immediately covered his mouth. His eyes darted to the bedroom stairs. A light turned on and voices could be heard from the rooms. "Shit," Harry swore as he stood.

"_Incendio_!" He muttered. A fire lit in the fireplace; he threw the letter in and watched as it began to crinkle at the edges and catch fire. It burned quickly and turned to ashes just as his housemates began to come down the stairs.

"Harry?" Ron questioned as he stumbled down the stairs and stared at his dark haired friend.

Emotionless green eyes stared back at him from across the room, the fire making them seem so much lighter. "What is it, Ron?" He asked in response bluntly.

"You weren't in your bed and we just wanted to make sure you were alright," Ron explained quickly and Seamus, who had appeared at his side, nodded in positive.

Harry adverted his eyes. "Right." He took one glance at the fire before walking past Ron and Seamus up the stairs. "I'm going back to bed. You two should too."

--

"It says:

_Dear Malfoy,_

_Thanks for writing and I suppose I believe you. To tell you the truth, I've always liked you it was just the way you treated me (and my friends) that screwed up my liking for you, and nearly made me hate you. Thanks again._

_Happily,_

_H. J. Potter_

That's so cute, Draco!"

Draco scowled at his Italian friend before taking the note back and stalking off to his rooms.

"Pureblood," he muttered to his guardian portrait of Salazar Slytherin, who scowled at being awakened but let him in anyway. The other portraits in his room awoke at his arrival and, after several greetings, he settled into a chair by the fire with a piece of parchment paper at a quill.

He sat for a moment, unsure of what he should place on the parchment; the quill twirling in his hand carelessly.

He settled for a confession.

_Dear Potter, _

_There are things you do that make me wonder,_

_Things you do that make me wish you'd make a blunder._

_There are things you do,_

_That set my heart pounding with thoughts of you._

_There are things you don't seem to see,_

_That makes butterflies flutter within every part of me._

_It's the lovely smile that is placed on your face,_

_That gives everyone in the room so much more space._

_It's the shine in your eyes,_

_That anyone would follow blindly, as if they were hypnotized._

_It's the sweet tone of your voice I hear,_

_That makes me love you and want to keep you near._

_My love for you is what makes me glow, and sometimes everything moves far too slow._

_I don't intend to ever let these feelings go, and I hope you know I will not take a no._

_There are times I want to steal you're heart, and times I want to be tart. _

_I afraid of what I feel for you, and I'm even more scared to admit that I love you._

_Love,_

_Draco L. Malfoy_

If that wasn't a sufficient enough announcement of his growing attraction, he didn't know what was.

He read over the brief letter and snorted at the sappiness. For the love of God, he was turning into a sodding Hufflepuff! He called his owl to him after a moment of self-pity. Tying the letter to its ankle and instructing it blandly before letting it fly off.

This insufferable attraction to a certain ebony-haired, emerald-eyed boy was getting the better of him. He huffed in annoyance and made his way to bed for a light nap.

--

It had been a week before Harry managed a look at the letter he was sent. He simply hadn't had the time of day to read it, what with all the homework they were given.

Professor McGonagall, who should have given Gryffindor an easier time considering, and Professor Snape seemed to think that shoving homework down their students' throats was going to end the post-exam slacking. (Fat lot of good that would do in his opinion.)

However, now, at this very time in the Great Hall during breakfast today, he had time. He unfolded the letter in his lap, scanning it briefly. He paused for a moment, his bacon hanging on his fork halfway to his mouth. He put the fork down and reread the letter.

A bright blushed colored his face as Hermione asked in concern, "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry stuttered something incoherent back, earning a suspicious look from her. He smiled and turned back to the letter, going over it once more.

Harry looked up and glanced at the paled-skinned boy at the Slytherin table, who was turned from him, talking to Crabbe and Goyle.

He swallowed and whispered to Hermione, "I'll be back in a minute, alright?"

She nodded in consent and watched as he left the Great Hall in a rush, unnoticed by the other students almost completely. She grinned as she looked at the Slytherin table.

Her friend was falling in love.

She would have to remember to tease him about it later. After she had finished her homework, of course.

She turned back to her food and ate it happily, ignoring the stares from her housemates as she began to hum in-between bites.

--

Draco looked up as soon as Potter stood to leave the Great Hall, letter clutched tightly in his tanned hand.

Blaise grinned from beside him and said, "Oh, well, now isn't that absolutely adorable? You make him so flustered!"

"You seem to have an uncanny ability to make everything you say sound absolutely perverted."

"What can I say? It's a gift."

"As if anything you do could be considered worthy enough to be deemed a gift."

"Is it me or are your sentences longer than mine, Drake?"

"Do not call me that!"

"Don't change the subject!" Blaise retorted in defense of himself as Draco glared at him.

Draco looked away and sighed as he asked, "Doesn't it bother you in the least?"

Blaise shot him a confused look from the corner of his eye as he took a long sip of pumpkin juice and a bite of his toast. His question was muffled by food. "What?"

"That I'm in love with Potter?" Draco grounded out, his voice so very low Blaise almost couldn't hear him. He glanced around the table; until he was satisfied no one had heard.

Blaise glared at him as he lectured, "Draco Lucius Malfoy! It matters not what anyone else thinks! Your love is your own and no matter what anyone says, that will always be the truth! My opinion, which is obviously positive, is of little concern."

"Thank you, mother," Draco drawled out with a slightly hidden grin.

"My dear son, you're very welcome!"

"Please stop with the nonsense, Blaise!"

"All right, Drake."

"Stop it!"

A screech interrupted their fight. Before long an entire flock of owls flooded into the Great Hall, carrying various letters and parcels.

Much to Draco's surprise a note fell into his lap. He opened it and read over it. It read:

"_I was always running_

_Running away_

_From my feelings_

_Everyday_

_When all this time_

_I should have realized_

That you as you were

_Would not criticize._"

* * *

To be continued. 


	4. Blow Me A Kiss

**Love Of His Quill**

Chapter Four: **_Blow Me A Kiss_**

By Kitsune Yarisha

* * *

He'd sent it

A letter, or note, that essentially expressed his true feelings.

And to top it all off… he hadn't received a quick reply like the other times.

In fact, he hadn't received anything from Malfoy for two weeks.

His moods were darker now, as a result.

He was prone to snap at Ron and Hermione when they began to bicker senselessly. He sulked in class and avoided all of the Slytherins.

He wanted to talk to Malfoy, but his Gryffindor courage and bravery were gone along with his optimistic attitude.

If Hermione had noticed, she had said nothing and done little.

Ron… well, Ron was an idiot and wouldn't notice a poster supporting 'Harry Potter is depressed' if you held it in front of his freckled face.

The others (Seamus, Dean, Neville, etc.) had noticed, but had kept clear of Harry since he'd thrown _Hogwarts: A History_ at them when they'd ask.

He walked into the Great Hall, face downcast, hair slightly more tame, and fist loosely clenched.

His friends were already seated.

Taking the seat between them, he began to fill his plate.

Hermione smiled and offered, "Toast, Harry?"

"No, thank you."

"Bacon?"

"No."

"Eggs?"

"I'm quite fine, thank you."

"How about some taters, than?"

"Hermione…"

"Or a biscuit?"

"No! I'm fine," He shouted, before ducking his head and apologizing as Hermione teared up.

Ron immediately began to prattle on about the unfairness of the Potions essay they had for homework, ignoring the display Hermione and Harry had just put on.

Harry, not really listening to Ron, glanced at the Slytherin table.

Malfoy had just sat down, Blaise at his immediate right.

He watched as the boy glanced around, gray eyes unable to stay still before they centered back on Blaise.

The blonde boy said something to his friend, and Blaise glanced up at Harry.

Harry ducked his head, and stared at his plate silently.

--

It was awkward…to be around Draco after the last letter Potter had sent.

He had never responded to it. In fact, he'd just locked it away.

Blaise had tried, over again, to get him to meet with Potter, as he was doing now, but he was failing miserably.

"Draco! Look at him! He's so worried he's done something wrong!"

To his credit, his friend did look up.

Potter's face was drawn, eyes tired, and smile gone.

Draco felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He turned his gaze back to Blaise. "Perhaps you've a point."

"Finally!" Blaise threw his hands up in the air.

"Well then, what should I do?"

"Public displays of affection!"

A pause. "What?"

"Act like a sodding Hufflepuff when he's around."

Silence. "WHAT!"

"'Tis the only way it will worketh!" Smug.

"I HATE YOU!"

"I know."

An uncomfortably homicidal silence filled the space between them as Draco glared at Blaise.

Blaise shifted on his seat, rather uncomfortable all of the sudden.

Before long, Draco sighed and muttered, "I'll do it."

"What was that?" Blaise asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

"I'll. Do. It," Draco ground out as he stood. He turned and left the Great Hall in a flurry of black robes that would've done Snape proud.

Blaise smiled and applauded himself mentally.

--

He'd have to do it now.

He walked forward determinedly to Malfoy's desk, totally focused.

The professor walked in behind him and Harry immediately turned and sat on his chair, face near a hysterical expression. He schooled it back into a mask of indifference.

He turned his gaze to Malfoy for a moment, watching the blonde as the professor prepared his lesson.

Malfoy shifted in his seat, glancing at Blaise before taking a deep breath. He turned and faced Harry.

Eyes suddenly wide, Harry blushed in embarrassment at being caught staring.

Malfoy smiled softly and waved at Harry before turning back to the front of the class.

Harry stared in shock at the back of Draco's head, unsure if he had just imagined that exchange. He didn't have quite long to think as the professor placed a quiz on his desk.

--

Draco and Blaise stood up immediately as the bell rang, eyes meeting from across the room.

Draco inhaled deeply and walked over to Potter, noticing with a mental smile that almost instantly Ron made an effort to distract his friend from his approach.

"Oi, Potter!"

Potter's head swiveled around in response. He brightened, "Hello, Malfoy."

"Hello, love," Draco mumbled as he pecked Harry on the cheek.

Harry's face went red as he stared wide-eyed at the Slytherin. "Wha…what did you call me?"

"Love. Why?"

"It's just… Um…"

Blaise choose that moment to appear, saving Harry from a response. "So…finally admit it?"

"Sod off, bloody wanker."

"Tut tut, Draco. Who here is starting to date The-Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Me, thank you," Draco glanced at Harry with an unsure look. "If that of course, is all right with you, Po—Harry."

"Of course!" Harry exclaimed beaming.

Ron looked undoubtedly disgusted and angry as he turned and stomped away.

Hermione waved a hand of dismissal at Harry, "I'll fix him up. Congratulations, Malfoy-Potter!"

"Malfoy-Potter, eh? What a lovely ring," Draco said to himself more than to Blaise and Harry. He grinned as he hugged Harry around the waist and mumbled into his ear, "I'm sorry about not answering. It took a moment to get over the initial shock."

"No problem. Besides, you more than made up for it with your display."

"Oh, now did I?"

"Except for one thing of course."

"Which is, Potter?"

"That and not telling me earlier on about your complex."

"Ah. Well I'll just have to find a way to make you forget that," Draco said before kissing him full on the lips and pulling him to their next class.

Blaise cooed behind them in sarcastic tone.

--

"Another year at Hogwarts has come to past, and though through our trials we have suffered many a loss to defeat Voldemort, we have also gained many allies. A few of us have even gained life partners," McGonagall gave a pointed look at Draco and Harry, who nodded. She continued, "However bad the damage we have suffered, those who have past are well-remembered and honored. Raise your classes to those lost and pray this will not continue!"

All the remaining students, barely enough to fill up a full table, raised their glasses. Some of the older girls were crying and the boy sat somberly, eyes closed.

Harry sobbed on Draco's shoulder, muttering something near, "As the boy-who-fucking-lived I can kill Voldemort, dementors, trolls, and giants, but I can't save my own friends!"

Draco shushed him, running his fingers through his lover's soft, messy, black hair, soothing him.

"To the true heroes!" Everyone shouted, raising his or her glasses high.

"I'll never see any of them again…" Harry mumbled into Draco's shoulder.

"Nonsense. _With each passing day, I sit and pray, because of my heart's desire, to see you all someday_. You'll see them again, if you will it."

Harry didn't reply, he just called, "Draco?"

"Hm?"

"You know that I… love you."

"Yes."

Harry grinned, "What no poem?"

Draco looked up at the night sky ceiling thoughtfully. "I suppose not."

"Why not?" Harry said, sitting up quickly to get a better look at Draco.

The latter smiled, "Because, quite frankly, I just don't feel like it now. Crying seems to put me off a bit. Just a bit. Of course, maybe later I will be willing."

Harry pouted, "Oh, come on. Recite an old one!"

Draco sighed, "If I must. Dry your face."

His boyfriend obliged, wiping his face clear of tears and smiling at Draco brightly. He waited patiently for the blonde to settle.

"This one is very old, so don't get any weird ideas from it, alright?"

Harry nodded animatedly; he tried not to leap from his seat as Draco started to recite a poem he had written in fifth year.

It was amazing to Harry that he had indeed inspired these wonderful poems.

Draco smiled softly at him and he recited in a gentle, rocking voice:

"_I'd like to run away from you,_

_Know that it's possible to get away from you._

_Try and push away all the emotions,_

_Push away all the things I can never say._

_I wish you could see me,_

_See me for the man that you've made me become._

_Everything is your entire fault!_

_It's you're fault that I can't stop…_

_You're fault I'm in love with you,_

_And can't stop dreaming of you."_

"Love of his quill," Harry breathed airily, happy to listen to Draco's voice.

The former Slytherin scowled and muttered, "Wanker."

* * *

To be continued.


	5. Epilogue

**Love Of His Quill**

Chapter Five: **_Epilogue _**

By Kitsune Yarisha

* * *

**_Savior Of T.W.W_**

_-…A five-year-old story is not one you usually follow up on, but this one was special._

_At the age of seventeen, Harry James Potter defeated the Dark Lord alongside his partner Draco Lucius Malfoy and several friends. The two heroes of the Darkest Age in the wizarding world married, succeeding in dismembering the only wizarding law against homosexual marriage. The law was never brought back up for debate. Sadly, Mr. Potter could not stop the death of his Hogwarts Headmaster during the war. However, he did succeed in changing the alliance of several Junior Death Eaters in his seventh year classes…-_

**K. Y. Moore**

Harry giggled. "Look, Drake, they wrote another article on me," he exclaimed, holding up the paper.

Draco peered back into the room, holding a wine glass, an elegant eyebrow raised. "Aren't we a spoiled media icon?"

"Well, of course I am! I saved the whole bloody damn world," Harry snorted back as he stood up.

Draco leaned against the doorframe with a frown. With evident sarcasm, he replied, "And here I thought I was suppose to be the egomaniac."

"Aw, boo hoo, love." Harry threw the Daily Prophet in the memoir drawer happily, before double taking. "Draco?"

"Hm?"

"What's this?" Harry asked as he pulled out a stuffed red folder.

Draco's face reddened considerably. He forced himself to breath evenly as he commanded, "Put it back, Harry."

"Why, Draco? What's in it?" A sly look crossed the dark haired man's face as he flipped the red folder open.

"Harry! Don't—!"

The phone rang and Harry immediately picked it up. "Malfoy Manor. Harry speaking."

"Hello, Potter!"

Harry grinned. "Blaise! How are you doing these days, mate?"

"Pretty well. And you?" Blaise cheerfully asked back. His voice had developed into a beautifully baritone since they had last talked.

"Quite well. I just found some old school stuff belonging to Drake in the memoir drawer."

"Oh, did you? Damn me, I must have misplaced it on my last visit. Which one is it?"

Harry smiled again; his eyes glinted knowingly. "Oh, just the red one, Blaise."

"Ah, Love of His Quill," Blaise breathed into the phone. "Young love is so beautiful. Well then, I'll leave you to torment Draco. I'll call back tomorrow."

"Okay then. Bye bye, Blaisy-poo!" Harry hung up the phone and grinned at Draco as he held up the first paper in the folder.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER-MALFOY! Didn't I tell you to put away that folder?" Draco shouted, blushing so hard that he clashed with his own pale blonde hair.

Harry replied with an innocent, "Maybe."

The taller blonde male dropped onto the couch, defeated. "Wanker," he muttered half-heartedly.

"Draco, read this one to me, please," Harry asked, holding up a piece of parchment.

Draco looked. "_Accio_ poem," he muttered as the paper flew up and into his hand. He scanned it and colored again. "Not this one," Draco whined at his lover.

"Yes, that one. There's a snog session in it for you. Please, for me?" Harry asked sweetly, biting his lower lip, making Draco scowl and stare at the page for a moment.

Draco muttered a "fine". He shifted on the couch and cleared his throat.

"_Send me a love letter_

_Blow me a kiss,_

_Set my fragile heart a flutter_

_With the words that you hiss,_

_Set my body a fire _

_With each caress that you give,_

_And though the consequences are dire_

_Know that for you is what I live_."

* * *

Owari.

Final Chapter Q and A:

What was with the article?

- **It sprang from having no idea how in the bloody world I was going to start this chapter. Um, the article wrote itself **

What does T.W.W. stand for?

- **Okay, this was a ridiculous thing I wanted to do. It stands for The Whole/Wizarding World.**

Who was the journalist K.Y. Moore?

- **Now that one was something that I did spur of the moment. It's my pen name initial and my real life last name.**

What was with Harry's personality?

- **For some reason I wanted him to seem spoiled and arrogant for once. Living with Draco Malfoy had to do something to him…right?**

Why the nickname Drake?

- **Drake! I love that nickname for Draco. It's exactly the same length as his name and Blaise used it to tease him in some of the earlier chapters. Harry gets away with using it.**

What was the red folder for?

- **Chapter one introduced the instrument of chaos. The RED FOLDER! It's the folder Blaise found in Draco's room. The one with all the stuff in it, the beginningof everything and anything. If Blaise hadn't found it...  
**

Why were they at the Malfoy Manor? Why not Potter Manor?

- **I was so indecisive about whose manor or if it was going to be a manor. It ended up at Draco's inherited home because I flipped a coin. (I got tails.)**

Why did Blaise answer to Harry's red folder line like he did? Why was he called Blaisy-poo?

- **Okay, let's see. When Blaise gave Harry Draco's poems he wrote the poem "Love of His Quill" and Harry mentions it in the last chapter. I wanted a cute nickname for Blaise.**

Why did you choose this dialogue for the last chapter?

- **Um, that's difficult to answer. The draft I wrote out for this chapter was really rough and sounded far too fluffy. I discarded half of it and went for spur of the moment writing.**

Why did you end the entire story with that one poem?

- **The entire story started because I wrote that poem. The first two lines I found on a beautiful icon and I thought they were brilliant so I started writing. It sparked this whole idea and the thousand of poems that followed.**

Any secret hints you put in the story?

- **I won't tell you the big one. It was sort of obvious, but I want all my readers to look real close at the chapter titles and the last poem.**

Any closing words?

- **Yes, in fact. Can someone write me a master/slave Harry and Draco slash story set in Egypt? Please? Oh and "I LOVE SLASH!"**

Author's Notes:

Sorry this last chapter is so short.

I held off on the notes until this, the final chapter. My goodness, I have never had so many reviews so quickly to continue a story such as this. Do NOT thank me for continuing this. Thank Scarlet and S.W., and if you don't know whom those wonderful people are well than look at my first two reviews. They ARE the people who single-handedly made me continue this fiction. I had everything planned out to where everything was going to be up to the reader. That first chapter was going to be it, but those two made me continue. And guess what? I damn sure glad I did. Thank you everyone for your wonderful support and hold on for _Melody of Oblivion_.


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